


Every Little Thing

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Communication Failure, Denial of Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing and love are two seperate things for Hermann. At least, for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Little Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cephalopod_groupie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopod_groupie/gifts).



> Written for cephalopod_groupie's birthday. Happy birthday!

    Hermann never meant for kissing Newton to get this complicated.

    It had started during one of their bigger rows. Newton had ended up putting them in quarantine yet again, and any worry Hermann had had about Newton’s well being had long since vanished once he’d ascertained Newton was not going to immediately die. Hermann can’t even remember why they began shouting in the first place, only that they were and Newton had looked so undone, with his pink face and angry shine to his eyes, and Hermann had just felt a need to shut him up, to show him who was best-

    It was an accident. He swore it was an accident. But it wasn't an accident the second, the third, the fourth, nor was it an accident the way Newt would respond, all pliant and willing. It kept happening - Newt or he would kick off about something and there would be fighting and shouting, then kissing and silence for a few minutes, and then the lab would go back to it's productive ways. It probably wasn't a healthy way to sort things out, but it worked. They'd both slot into their respective roles of dominant and dominated as if they were custom-made gloves, and by the time their energy had been spent the fight is long but forgotten.

    When they fight, it's all bluster and pride and heady desperation. When they kiss, it's hard and fast, like running headfirst into a sandstorm, all harsh and biting and altogether quite painful, but it’s so good, and there is no greater gift than feeling the peppy, restless scientist break apart under his lips. Newton gives as good as he gets, and as much as Hermann is loathe to admit, Newton is very good at kissing. Although Newton is a lot heavier than he is, Hermann still manages to dominate, his hands in Newton’s hair tugging and pulling to get him where he wants, and it makes him feel powerful in ways that he has never felt before-

    And when Newton leaves (as he inevitably must), straightening his clothes and reeling off about a dissection that Must Be Done Now, Hermann only smiles.

    The kissing starts to become a problem when Hermann begins to develop _feelings_. Of course they aren’t enemies, not Total Arch Villains who don’t have a nice word to say about the other. They fight and bicker and steal baby carrots from each other, but when push came to shove and their funding dwindled to barely scraps, they were K-Science, they were a _team_. They bonded together in some kind of cross between mutual fury and vague comradeship, and this was the only time they didn’t fight each other but fought the Powers That Were for their slice of the PPDC budget.

    And Hermann supposed that was where the problems start. They aren’t arch enemies fighting for dominance, they’re just two men stuck in a shitty situation trying to have some control, and that vagueness in their relationship gave his emotions room to run riot. Vague comradeship was all very well and good and he could handle that, but the feelings that cropped up afterwards were harder to handle. The fluttering in his gut whenever Newt entered the room. The peace that had developed between them as the war of words became less important than the war of tongues. The knots in his stomach whenever he saw him looking interested in someone else, which was easily solved by wandering up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, staking his claim.

    Hermann had never thought himself to be queer, and yet Newton had managed to get under his skin in the same way a pretty lady would. Kissing Newton has become less of a power game and more of a sign of affection. He doesn’t really understand why he keeps doing it anymore, the fight is done and they rarely ever quarrel over something serious, but he likes it, and Newton isn’t complaining so he leaves it be. It’s nicer than the bickering, not that any bickering they do is malicious anymore. But spending hours cuddled on the lab couch exchanging kisses without words, without expectations or expressions is somewhat freeing. It’s an expression of their inner turmoils, two proud men who cannot admit to a stalemate and yet cannot bring themselves to fight again.

    So they kiss and they bicker and sometimes they lay on top of each other and stare at the ceiling in tired silence. Hermann wonders what it would be like to taste the constellations of freckles that sit on the back of Newton’s thighs, and wonders if Newton knows they exist. He traces the lines and swirls of tattoo patterns on Newton’s arms and thinks about whether Newton realises he admires them or thinks he’s just tracing them out of interest. Hermann lives for the self-knowing smiles and the never ending chatter, because that’s invitation for him to sweep in and take Newton’s breath away.

    They kiss because it’s the only way they know how to communicate.


End file.
